


In From the Cold

by Irelando



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Rebelcaptain Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 03:09:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13204554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irelando/pseuds/Irelando
Summary: “Alright,” she declared as she stood. “Time for a Christmas movie.”Cassian blinked at her.“What?” she asked after a moment.He hesitated. “You… never really struck me as the type.”(for NewLeeland!)





	In From the Cold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NewLeeland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewLeeland/gifts).



> For NewLeeland, as part of the Rebelcaptain Secret Santa gift exchange! Thank you for giving me an excuse to write fluffy domestic Rebelcaptain C: I do love it so. Hope you enjoy!

When he’d promised Jyn that morning that he would be back before five, Cassian had had every intention of following through. It was Christmas Eve, after all – the first he’d ever really had with something resembling a family to call his own. He wanted to spend it with them, with _her_ , not cooped up in the same office he’d spent half his life in.

Of course, bad guys didn’t take days off. Even Christmas Eve. The incident itself wouldn’t even have been that bad, if it hadn’t left him with an absolute _truckload_ of paperwork to deal with. Sometimes, Cassian really hated his job. Even scrawling as fast as he could across forms he’d filled out a hundred times, so fast he was probably going to have to redo half of it when he came back in so that it was actually legible, the stack on the desk at his elbow never seemed to get any shorter.

He’d stopped looking at the clock around 5:45, opting instead to focus as hard as he could on getting it done so he could go home with a clear conscience. As a result, he had no idea how long he’d been working when a familiar clipped tone jolted him out of his pinpoint focus: “I thought you said you were going home early today.”

The break in his focus was enough for Cassian to realize his hand was cramping from gripping his pen. He sighed and raised his head, shaking the tingling pain from his fingers as he looked up at his partner. “Not early,” he corrected. “On time.”

“It is 7:04 PM,” Kay Tuesso said, folding his long arms across his chest. “By what stretch of imagination is that ‘on time’?”

Past seven? Already? Cassian couldn’t help it – he glanced up at the clock and groaned. “Jyn’s going to kill me.”

“I find that improbable,” Kay reassured him, “It’s far more likely she’ll just be disappointed.”

Cassian put his head on the table. “Not helping.”

Kay let out a little huff. “Then how about this. I will do your paperwork. It will be faster, and more accurate, and that way you can go home to your possibly-murderous paramour.”

_Paramour?_ Cassian let it slide, instead pointing out, “I have to sign off on all of these.”

Kay sniffed. “After ten years as your partner, you don’t think I can forge your signature perfectly well? Director Draven will never know the difference.”

That should probably bother Cassian more than it does. Instead, all he feels is relief at the idea of finally escaping the office – a feeling that would have been totally alien a year ago. Before Operation Fracture. Before he’d met Jyn, and his entire world had turned on its head.

“Are you sure?” he pressed, even as he stood up to grab his jacket from the hook nearby. “You should get to celebrate, too.”

“Please.” Kay snorted. “What would I do? Watch those soppy Hallmark TV movies? No, thank you.” His partner folded his spindly body into the seat Cassian had just vacated, picking up Cassian’s discarded pen.

Cassian shrugged into his jacket, pausing just long enough to clasp Kay’s shoulder and give a heartfelt, if rushed, “Thank you,” before heading for the door.

Not quite fast enough to miss the normally dour Agent Tuesso’s “Merry Christmas, Cassian,” as the door swung shut behind him.

\--

Cassian took the stairs up to the apartment he shared with Jyn and Bodhi two at a time, letting the exertion bring warmth back into muscles frozen by the short walk between the train station and their building. The air in the stairwell smelled like warm, cooking food. Cassian’s stomach growled loudly. He ignored it.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find inside the apartment. Jyn, her hands on her hips, looking pointedly at the clock Cassian had insisted on hanging up on the wall despite the fact that they all had perfectly good cellphones. Bodhi, maybe, nervously trying to make peace.

Instead, what he found was a pair of judgmental feline eyes, staring at him from where Kay-two lay curled atop a mound of blankets on their run-down, overstuffed couch. This didn’t strike Cassian as remarkable until he took a second look and realized that _Jyn_ was under those blankets.

He couldn’t help a grin as he eased the door shut behind him. “I knew you liked her.”

Kay-two blinked at him, yawned, and looked away, apparently unbothered by being caught in the act.

The sound of Cassian’s voice brought a sleepy grumble from Jyn, the blankets shifting as she pushed her face further into the couch cushions. Cassian paused, his grin slowly shifting into a more genuine smile. The room was dim, but the flickering light from the TV screen (playing Jyn’s latest guilty pleasure action TV serial at a low, unobtrusive volume) was enough for him to see the smooth, unbothered skin of her forehead, the tousled hair escaping her usual messy bun as it always did. Cassian paused long enough to shuck off his coat, hanging it carefully on the coat tree by the door, before he finally went over to her.

Kay-two cracked an eye, glaring accusatorily as Cassian crouched down in front of Jyn. “Sorry,” Cassian told him, and reached out to gently shake Jyn’s shoulder (barely visible beneath the veritable mountain of blankets). “Jyn. Jyn, wake up.”

She mumbled something under her breath and turned, shifting so she could peer at him through sleep-glazed eyes. “Wh’ time is it?”

“Almost eight,” Cassian said apologetically. “I’m really sorry, Jyn. Something—“

“Came up,” she finished, with none of the accusation Cassian had been bracing for. She shifted again, propping herself up on her elbows to rake her hair out of her face. Above her, Kay-two meowed reproachfully and jumped down behind the couch, stalking off to find some more cooperative bed.

Cassian watched him go, then looked back to find Jyn smiling faintly at him. “Honestly?” she said. “You’re earlier than I expected.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she told him. “Are you hungry? There are chilaquiles waiting for you in the kitchen.”

Cassian’s mouth started to water. “Not exactly seasonal,” he teased as he stood, offering her a hand to get up off the couch.

She took it, letting him pull her up as blankets tumbled off her shoulders. “You complaining? Besides, I did sort of get in the spirit. They’re homemade, after all.”

Cassian’s smile froze slightly. “Did you…?” He loved her, he really did, but cooking was not among Jyn’s talents.

Jyn let him suffer for a moment longer before she grinned. “Nah. Dameron made them this afternoon.”

He blew out a relieved breath, and Jyn laughed. “I would have eaten them anyway, you know,” Cassian said, as they headed towards the kitchen.

She flashed him a smile over her shoulder. “I know.” Then she snorted. “Can you imagine? Merry Christmas, suffer through my shite cooking.”

Jyn may not have been able to cook, but she’d kept the chilaquiles warm, and her mixed drinks were killer. Once they’d both eaten their fill, Cassian leaned back in his chair, letting the pleasant warmth of the heater at his back and the faint buzz of alcohol blur the edges off his long day. “Where’s Bodhi?”

“He’s crashing with Chirrut and Baze,” Jyn told him, sipping at her drink. “I told him he didn’t have to, but he insisted. Also, I’ve been told we’re expected to show up at one tomorrow so they can stuff us full of food.”

Cassian considered their refrigerator. He didn’t have to open it to know it was empty, and besides, Chirrut was a better cook than the rest of the building combined. “Guess we’ll have to, then.”

“Brace yourself for presents,” Jyn warned him. “Baze has been knitting up a storm lately.”

“Really?”

Jyn nodded. “Remember that day last week that was below zero? He came stomping up to me at the bus stop, stuck a freshly-knitted hat on my head, and muttered something about making sure I didn’t freeze to death.” She took another sip. “Warmest damn hat I’ve ever owned.”

“My gloves are getting a little worn out,” Cassian admitted.

Jyn smirked and downed the rest of her drink, setting the glass down on the table with a satisfied _clack_. “Alright,” she declared as she stood. “Time for a Christmas movie.”

Cassian blinked at her.

“What?” she asked after a moment.

He hesitated. “You… never really struck me as the type.”

Jyn sniffed. “You’ve clearly never seen the greatest Christmas movie ever made.” She held out a hand. “Let me enlighten you.”

Cassian was curious enough not to argue with her. He took her hand and let her pull him back to the couch.

She was settled next to him by the time the title screen showed up, and Cassian’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “Die Hard?”

“The greatest Christmas movie of all time,” she declared, pointedly tucking herself against his arm as the movie began.

By the time it ended, they were both sprawled out across the couch, with Jyn lying mostly on top of him. Several blankets had been rescued from the floor and pulled haphazardly across, making the couch into a multicolored nest. It was sweltering, especially with the heater clanking away in the corner, but Cassian wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

“Told you so,” Jyn announced as the credits rolled, not moving her head from where it was pillowed on his chest.

“You did,” he agreed. He’d never honestly watched any other Christmas movies, but he trusted her judgment.

“Glad you see it my way,” she said around a yawn.

Cassian just lay there, the soundtrack playing softly from the TV, feeling Jyn’s chest rise and fall against his own in a soothing, regular rhythm.

He hadn’t realized how close he’d come to dozing off until Jyn shifted, pushing herself up so she could kiss the corner of his mouth gently. “Merry Christmas, Cassian.”

He slid a hand up to cradle her head, guiding her back up to meet his lips for a second, longer kiss. When they broke apart, she didn’t pull away, letting her forehead rest against his own. “Merry Christmas, Jyn.”


End file.
